


Through It All

by ItsOnlyHim_TheLost



Category: McLennon (ship), The Beatles (Band)
Genre: #McLennon, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsOnlyHim_TheLost/pseuds/ItsOnlyHim_TheLost
Summary: Paul, in 1980, goes to pay John a visit after many years and pain (at least on his behalf).
Relationships: John Lennon & Paul McCartney, John Lennon & Sean Lennon, John Lennon & Yoko Ono, John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Mike McCartney & Paul McCartney
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

It was 1980, December 7th, as Paul McCartney sat at the dining table of his father’s home -the one he grew up in and thought he would never live in agin once he left the place at the ripe age of eighteen-. He was now almost fourty for fuck’s sake! And now he was back; a man that should very well be cable of caring for his middle aged ass. 

But, no, The Beatles  _ had _ to break up. John  _ had _ to bring that Yoko girl. Had he really loved her or was it all just all the drugs finaly breaking him? Paul’s fingers caved toward his weary, swollen eyes, temptation boiling up his stomach to just claw the buggers out; to let all be over with. He would never agin have to deal with the coy smirks that the man he loved so much gave after every hateful comet he made in every motherfucking inveiw he attended.  _ Sure, _ that was done for the most part, but, the searing pain that came with each of those snide remarks remained in Paul’s lungs.

Burning,

Burning,

Burning,

Heaving, Paul buried his disheveled face into the forctece of his arms, the darkness it fostered dulling his pain but, lacking to remove it as he would have liked it to. Paul slipped his index finger into his mouth, chewing on it slightly but, not in any way that should have been damaging; merely testing as he would have done as a child newly bearing teeth.

“Paul?” Mike brushed upward through Paul’s ruslted hair in some odd attment to rouse him. “I was -yenno- wonderin’ if ye would like a cuppa.” 

“I…, I ‘ave to see ‘i'm.” Paul choked. 

“Huh?” 

Paul lifted his head, his eyes meeting Mike’s for the frist time that morning. “I ‘ave to see ‘im, Mikey; I ‘ave to see John.” 

“An’ will tha’ do?” -Paul, his eyes watering, darted back into the darkness of his arms- “Wha’ ‘as ‘e said abou’ you all these years? ‘E ‘as jus’ kept fuckin’ rippin’ ye apart actin’ like ‘e’s  _ so _ much better. ‘E would be nothin’ without you. ‘E makes ye cry; ye can’t even live anymore. Why do yeh wanna see ‘is arse? So ye can jus’-” Mike spoke with clenched teeth. This is the man that broke his brother. His brother who used to be so  _ happy _ and carefree turned into a man that would lay in his room sobbing. Heck, how many times had he come into Paul’s room in the middle of the day to find him asleep on the floor drenched in his tears, his hair pletered to his destressed face? He used look up to elder brother. He asspered to be as famous as him someday. But, now? He has to baby him.

Paul shuffled shiltly, returning Mike’s attention back to him. 

“Mikey…, Mikey, it’s not tha’.”

“Wha’ is it than?” Mike rejoined.

“It’s not ‘is fault. ‘M the one tha’ pushed ‘im away; ‘M the one tha’ hurt ‘im.” Paul continued, “I need to…, I need- to- to- make it up to ‘im. It’s my fault. I was scared; very.”

Mike rested his trembling hand on Paul’s back. How could he think that? He had done nothing wrong; nothing. 

“Huh?” That was all that could snake it’s way out of Mike’s mouth.

Paul wobbled to his feet. “Yes please, a cuppa would be great. ‘M goin’ to get dressed.” Paul clad in sweats he had been wearing for well over a mouth, made up the stairs. 

The younger of the two stood there stunned, completely at lost, before rushing to make the tea.


	2. Chapter 2

Discarding his sweats to the tile floor, Paul slipped into the shower imtily starting work on his greasy matted hair. When had he decided to let himself go like this? He couldn’t quite recall. Why had he letten this little loss of a friend get under his skin in such a way? Paul knew it was more than that, even if he hadn’t felt the way he did it would be more. That man was his boyhood friend, the one he couldn’t be ripped away from -much to his father’s annoyance-. 

Paul slid his clammy hand to the tiled wall of the shower, trying to feel something though, what he was not aware of. Later, Paul’s head flickering back to that moment, he would say he was looking for reassurance; to be told somehow, that it would all be alright. That John loved him as much as he loved John. 

When?

Why?

John…?

_ Please? Please, Please me? _

Paul chuckled, lifting himself up from the shower wall. He rinsed the remainder of shampoo from his hair and scuried out of the shower. 

Paul danced out of the bathroom, -towel carefully secured around his waist- to his bedroom at the end of the hall. Flinging the door aside before shutting it behind himself, stuffing himself into an old pair of briefs that no doubt should have been tossed long ago, Paul survaed his closet. It was all overwhelming really, after a few years of wearing nothing but sweats and a few bathrobes here and there. 

His eyes catching on something blue near the back, Paul reached for it.  _ Jeans, that’ll do. _ Paul began to hop into his jeans when he heard a thumping indicating someone was hurrying up the stairs. 

“ _ Paul? _ Ye okay?” Mike inquired, rapping hastily at Paul’s door.

“Yeah, ‘m jus’ gettin’ me jeans on.” 

Mike sputtered. “Oh…, oh, okay!”

+

“You look great, Paul.” Mike beamed.

“Oh, come off it….” Paul fidgeted with the hem of his jumper as mind traced all the possibilities. Maybe he should give the whole thing up, he would probably arrive in New York for his heart to get crushed again anyway.

“Paul, ‘m serious. You look great!” 

“Bye, Mikey….” Paul breathed, hotly.

Mike barely held back a glare. “‘M drivein’. Yer license is probably out of date.” 

Upon both of them clamoring into the back of their car, Mike intoned: “So, how does it feel bein’ in a car for the frist time in a year, Paulie!” Paul turned, resting his head on the back window. “Shurr’up,” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Ello, I hope everyone's enjoying this thing. I'm sorry it's rubbish.  
> -Much love, The Lost.


End file.
